411: Chapter 382 Intersecting mories (3/3) 411: Chapter 382 Intersecting mories (3/3) Steward Moda spoke with a look of sheer terror, obviously frightened beyond asure.
But neither Ian nor Radiant Nun showed much interest, their expressions unchanged.
——That’s it?
The talking forest next door is ten thousand tis scarier than your phantom.
“Is the child a boy or a girl?
Was it floating midair or did you see it when you looked down?
Was there really no face or was it too blurry to see because of the light?”
Ian asked in detail, “And how exactly did you faint?”
Owing to Ian’s overly professional questioning, which ca across as dispassionate and lacking empathy, Steward Moda’s sowhat wrinkled face briefly relaxed from surprise—before wrinkling even more.
“Yes, it was a boy?
Around seven or eight years old, I couldn’t see clearly.”
Thanks to the young knight’s gentle probing, Steward Moda temporarily shook off his fear and responded with a frown: “He was floating midair, his body translucent…
He truly had no face, smooth where his features should be, but upon seeing that face, I was instantly reminded of so many, so many things that terrify .”
“My deceased parents, my second child who died young, the girl I never dared to pursue…
so many, so many regrets, so much, so much unwillingness…
In an instant, I was overwheld by pain and discontent, self-bla and hesitation, my mind went blank…”
As he said this, the steward’s expression, which had cald sowhat, collapsed once again; his tears fell in large drops, his voice filled with despair: “What aning does my life have?
I’ve never pursued the beauty in my heart…”
“I’m not a good father; I just watched as my child died.
Why didn’t I borrow money from the lord to have a cleric from the Huai Guang Church save my child?
The lord wouldn’t have refused , what was I so afraid of, why didn’t I do it?!”
Steward Moda knelt on the ground, curling up, as a palpable pain assaulted his spirit.
It wasn’t until a slender, pale hand with slightly sharp fingertips reached out, pressing on Steward Moda’s head.
A silver-white radiance shone, causing him to montarily look dazed, his breathing evening out.
“Despair Aura.”
Radiant Nun maintained the ‘Soul Calming Technique’, a nerve-soothing skill, and she turned to Ian saying, “He must have truly encountered a very powerful spiritual body, and a highly dangerous vengeful spirit at that—his sympathetic suffering with the vengeful spirit suggests it relates to the Baron who also lost a child; a normal person’s reaction wouldn’t be this intense.”
“That may well be the fourth blue mist entity I saw, the Viscount’s ‘progeny’.”
Ian thoughtfully watched as Radiant Nun moved the now-tranquil Steward Moda onto a dry grass mat: “The great storm six years ago caused a landslide, which killed the Baroness and her child, and the Baron’s child would have been one or two years old at that ti.”
“If he were still alive, he would indeed be about seven or eight years old.”
——Just the sa age as the Baron’s other adopted sons and daughters.
And, a ‘spiritual body’ at one or two years old?
Could it be that the Baron’s own child was a naturally-gifted ‘Chosen One’ of Spirit Energy?
“There are more questions I need to ask him.”
Gathering his thoughts, Ian crouched down, pulling a Stamina Potion from his waist and pouring it into the bewildered Steward Moda’s mouth: “Did you finish drinking?
Once you do, answer my question—when did the Baron adopt his other adopted sons and daughters.”
“Cough, cough…
hold on, how did you get into the castle?!”
After swallowing the Stamina Potion and having his nerves soothed from the influence of the Despair Aura by the Soul Calming Technique, Steward Moda was truly awake.
This sowhat balding middle-aged steward looked at the two ‘intruders’ in shock: “This is an illegal invasion, even the Huai Guang Church has no right to enter a noble’s private residence!”
At first, his tone was quite forceful, but it weakened under the calm gaze of Ian and Radiant Nun.
In the end, Steward Moda bowed his head, answering sowhat dispiritedly: “Alright, I’ve also felt that the lord has been acting strangely, let think…”
He fell into contemplation, trying to extract valuable information from the depths of his mory: “The first was Young Master Moqiu, whom the lord rescued from the West Frontier Plains refugee camp four years ago, a child of three or four, without parents and siblings, it was the first ti I saw the lord so angry…”
“Then ca Young Master Yila and Miss Linda, they…
uh?
They…
they…”
“No, it was Yila first!
But, who?
Who was the first one to co to the castle?
Wait, my mory…”
“When exactly did they arrive?
I don’t rember at all…”
Saying this, Steward Moda got stuck; the old steward’s gaze gradually beca frantic again: “When was it…
how can I not rember, I still recall I specifically prepared a candy feast to welco the young lords and ladies, I rember making sugar figures, but when was that…”
“It seems the situation is quite clear.”
Radiant Nun narrowed her eyes, stating firmly: “His mory has been altered, a vengeful spirit wouldn’t be capable of this; it must have been done by a Spirit Energy User who can manipulate mories.”
“Two years ago, a Spirit Energy User killed a wealthy rchant and took his place.
Neither the rchant’s mistresses, his household servants, nor the neighbors had any clue until a passing Spirit Energy User noticed sothing was amiss.
These two incidents are very similar.”
“It’s evident,” Ian said, his eyes sparking with a water-colored gleam of Spirit Energy Radiance.
Upon closer observation, one could see faint blue marks of Spirit Energy on Steward Moda’s brain.
He hadn’t died because his attacker had intentionally spared his life, but a significant portion of his mory structure had been destroyed.
It appeared that it was this Spirit Energy User who had altered the Baron’s mories related to the death of his own child.
“You’ve been spared by your lord and the young master,” Ian stood up and looked up at the ancient castle: “They didn’t want to kill you, so they just left you in the basent.”
Looking down at the now listless Steward Moda, Ian spoke calmly: “You’re not a fool, Steward Moda; you surely know that the Baron has done sothing irreversible, and Radiant Nun and I are here to clean up after him, to prevent him from making further mistakes.”
Steward Moda hung his head, staring blankly at his own hands.
The old steward seed to have aged a decade in an instant.
He murmured to himself, “I have served the master for over forty years.
When he was a child and made mischiefs, it was I who took the bla for him…
The master, he was always so well-behaved, such a good lord.
How could he…”
“What exactly is the master keeping from …”
“Very good, you’ve clearly noticed the discrepancies,” Ian said in a soft tone, with an indiscernible hint of seduction, “Now, think back carefully—about the true circumstances of the Baroness and the Baron’s offspring, your so-called ‘young master’.”
“After you have rembered, you can choose to cooperate with us, or choose not to.”
“The lady and the young master…”
Following the tone of Ian, Steward Moda at first seed puzzled and confused, clearly not understanding what was questionable about such an obvious problem.
But soon, a look of horror appeared on his face: “No, that’s not right!
How can it be?!”
“The lady and the young master are both dead, aren’t they?
But why, why do I still have mories of the young master…”
It was as if a bolt of lightning had struck, connecting heaven and earth—two sets of mories intertwined.
The old steward still rembered teaching the young master to walk, bit by bit, and carrying him to behold the beauty of Leyan Flower Sea.
He also rembered how the young master fell while running too fast by the lakeside, how he dashed out at the fastest speed of his life, and even the Baron Leyan laughed heartily, saying that he, as a father, was not as anxious as him—after all, the young master was a noble heir with the Bloodline; a re fall, how could that be of any concern?
But he was worried, how could he think rationally then?
A pale bolt of lightning tore through the dark sky, and the rumble of thunder exploded, audible even in the basent.
Everything was just like the great storm six years ago.
A barrage of light and shadows began to flicker in the mind of the man who had entered his old age.
—The heavy rain.
The storm.
The collapse of mountains.
An earthquake that shook the whole domain.
—The Baron flying out of the castle in a rage.
The master kneeling on the ground in despair, crying.
A boy who had grown up under his watch, once had hidden in his room crying because of the great master’s scolding.
A boy who, just like him with tears streaming down, embraced each other in vulnerability, as they did forty years ago.
[They’re gone, Moda…
all gone…
My life has lost all its aning…]
“No, master!
It’s not your fault, as long as you live, there’s always a possibility…
Don’t give up!”
[…]
[Right.]
[You’re right.
It’s not ti to despair yet.
I can’t give up yet.]
In that mont, as if a vital elent had been activated, the old steward lifted his head, his gaze so bright that even Ian and the Radiant felt it was extraordinary: “Yes, I rember now…”
Steward Moda rembered, the two disparate mories in his mind overlapped, intersected, and finally rged into one, revealing their truest form.
He had never held the young master; it was only a bluish spiritual body that had surrounded him as he walked through the flower sea.
No one had fallen by the lakeside, just a mist twirling in the sunset.
No child had tasted his ticulously cooked als, no child had laughed at the sugar figurines he crafted; that little wooden horse and wooden sword sitting next to the furniture had never been ridden or swung by anyone, and he had never played the part of an evil dragon or a general of the enemy, shouting ‘ah!’ as he was defeated by a tiny knight and lay on the ground.
All mories were false.
The wooden horse and the sword were just lying there lonely, while he and the Baron, at that ti, only stared silently at the toys that had been prepared long ago but had never been used.
From morning to evening, from the depth of night to the break of dawn.
A lone spiritual body wandered the castle.
The hazy mist, the bluish spiritual body, gradually solidifying into the young form of a child.
A soul that had taken shape due to other people’s mories, due to other people’s perceptions.
Yet, it still had no face…
It remained a faceless vengeful spirit that made one feel uneasy and fearful.
But…
Steward Moda was no longer afraid.
For, he finally rembered.
When he turned around, the spiritual body that reached out to him wasn’t trying to harm him.
It just wanted to reach out, to touch the old man who had accompanied it as it grew…
It just wanted…
To embrace him.
“That is the young master…”
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